Quotes About Memory

Dreams reveal we never quite get 'over' anything: it's all still in there somewhere.

There is an Arabic saying that the soul travels at the pace of a camel. While most of us are led by the strict demands of timetables and diaries, our soul, the seat of the heart, trails nostalgically behind, burdened by the weight of memory. If every love affair adds a certain weight to the camel's load, then we can expect the soul to slow according to the significance of love's burden.

I was here, I saw this and it mattered to me.

Even if our loved ones have assured us that they'll be busy at work, even if they told us they hated us for going travelling in the first place, even if they left us last June or died twelve years ago, it is impossible not to experience a shiver of a sense that they may have come along anyway, just to surprise us and make us feel special.

As we write, so we build: to keep a record of what matters to us.

It is striking how much more seriously we are likely to be taken after we have been dead a few centuries.

The fear of forgetting anything precious can trigger in us the wish to raise a structure, like a paperweight to hold down our memories. We might even follow the example of the Countess of Mount Edgcumbe, who in the late eighteenth century had a thirty-foot-high Neoclassical obelisk erected on a hill on the outskirts of Plymouth, in memory of an unusually sensitive pig called Cupid, whom she did not hesitate to call a true friend.

The fear of forgetting anything precious can trigger in us the wish to raise a structure, like a paperweight to hold down our memories.

If drawing had value even when practiced by those with no talent, it was, Ruskin believed, because it could teach us to see -- that is, to notice rather than to merely look. In the process of re-creating with our own hands what lies before our eyes, we seem naturally to evolve from observing beauty in a loose way to possessing a deep understanding of its constituent parts and hence more secure memories of it.

Just as a childhood can be released from the odour of a washing powder or cup of tea, an entire culture can spring from the angles of a few lines.

fabrication de la petite madeleine de Marcel Proust». Un paquete de ocho

It is, unfortunately, easier to lose a lover than complete In Search of Lost Time.

Time abbreviated itself, like an accordion that is lived in extension but remembered only in contraction.

At eighty, things do not occur; they recur.

When he dipped his cake in his tea - a disgusting business - the whole of his life came back to him. When I did it nothing happened.

When dead she would exist only in the memories of people. She, who had never been subject to anyone would now be on the par with everybody else. Reading could not change that. Though writing might.

It's not so much lest we forget, as lest we remember.

It could be a Michael Powell film or a page from the diaries of Denton Welch...the field would make a good Brideshead-like beginning for a film: as it is now and as it was then...'There is nothing I would want to alter or improve. Unattended to, disregarded (though it's grade 1 listed) it is just as the past should be.

I listened, rapt and silent, as he conjured from the cold black type the image of a woman of many years past, shivering in the chill predawn light as she waited for the sun to rise.

I am your new love to be kissed My flower, my lei, my love for you Is unforgettable . . .

Time passes. Horror does not. *

Parker sat still, letting the last vestiges of the memory fade from his mind. They left a pleasantly lascivious residue behind. Absently, he flipped a key switch over his console. A gratifyingly green light appeared above it, held steady.

The expression on her face was one the trooper would never forget: it was the look of someone still alive who realizes she's already dead

It is I, See-Threepio! You probably don't recognize me because of the red arm.